Dangerous
by celticgina
Summary: My first CM fiction. One-shot A bit of fluff featuring a tour inside Emily's mind as she thinks about a certain team member. Please review? Yeah, because Aaron wanted his side told, another chapter. REVIEW PLEASE?
1. Chapter 1

**Please be gentle with me, kind readers. This is my first fic for CRIMINAL MINDS. It's a bit of fluff and some fun for those who like H/P. I hope it is not too AU and off track.**

**I own my own little imagination and an inner 15year old.**

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**Dangerous**

As she stared out the window of the jet, Emily Prentiss was not focusing on the stars or the twinkling lights of civilizations that rushed past below. She was tying to think of a word. Considering her considerable linguistic skills, it was unusual that one would elude her. But this subject matter was not easily defined. She knew if she turned her head, she would see him. But every aspect of his face was already burned into her being. Her head came up slightly as she figured it out.

Dangerous.

Aaron Hotchner was dangerous. He was a danger to the careful calm she had constructed around her life. She had taught herself to be a sea of warm calm on a team that was so tightly bound, and if she were to be honest, tightly wound. The average person would only see Hotch as dangerous if he were on the wrong end of his gun, badge and controlled fury. That wasn't Emily's problem.

He was a danger to her heart. It was ridiculous, really. She wasn't some 15 year old girl to have her head turned by a gorgeous teacher. She was a grown woman. This kind of silly crush should be tucked into her memories of adolescence. The only difference between her and that 15 year old girl was that she was better at controlling her reactions and impulses.

Analyze this Emily. Break it down, and figure it out. Her inner adult reasoned with the 15 year old inside. If she could figure out what about him was causing this reaction, maybe she could quash it all.

Was it his voice? Yes, that must be it. That deep, husky voice always sent a slight shiver skittering across her nerves. On the very few occasions he had actually called her by her first name, she would imagine him whispering it into her ear. If she were alone in her bed, she would imagine how it would sound being groaned in passion. He called others by their first names, but only rarely did he call her Emily. She should be grateful, she supposed. If he did it too often, her imagination would send that very lonely libido into overdrive.

She could imagine his eyes as he said her name at those moments. Wait, his eyes. That's what was dangerous. Those oh so dark and mysterious eyes. Their intensity drew her in every time. When her imagination allowed, she would wonder what they would be like focusing on her and her pleasure alone. It was enough to make both the 15 year old and the woman a little heated at her core. He looked so directly at you and almost into your soul. But then, something funny would strike him on the odd occasion and they would twinkle with just a tiny raise of an eyebrow. His eyes alone would invite you to share the joke, even if no one else got it. Rarely, the smile would travel from there all the way down to, oh my God that smile.

Well, that was it. He had a killer smile. She almost sighed in relief. She had solved the mystery. Hotch was a handsome man, for sure, but his face was always so austere and grave. There was very little to laugh at in their line of work to be sure, but he kept himself in strict control. It was probably why when he did smile, it was such a revelation. No man who kept that tight a rein on his face, who looked so stern, should have been blessed with that smile and oh oh, those dimples. It was the last thing anyone would expect out of him. Deep, dimples that flashed and took years off him. It was almost a cruel joke by God to have blessed a face that rarely smiled with those disarming adorable dimples. She realized the strength. Oh wait, that physique.

Emily knew most women would prefer the clearly sculpted and often displayed muscles of Derek Morgan. He was like a statue in the beauty of his frame. But somehow, she always saw him as a work of art instead of an object of lust. Now that long lean, tightly corded frame on Hotch. He swathed it in oh so appropriate suits. But when he would put a vest over a carefully tailored shirt, you got a sense of what lay beneath. Even in those tense moments when strapping on a vest was a tangible acknowledgement of what could happen, she would always sneak a peak and wonder about how it would feel to unstrap and unbutton him later. She would run her hands…oh the hands. She almost forgot.

They were strong, with long fingers, she was just sure would be able to reduce her to a puddle in no time. Just thinking about that made her need to shift in her seat. She knew her face was flushed from allowing her imagination to run rampant like that.

"Are you alright? You are very flushed; do you need a drink of water?" The voice that had been haunting her broke into her reverie. Oh great, she thought, now what do I tell him. She was saved by his voice again.

"I know this was a difficult case and sometimes thinking back on the danger can be upsetting. But remember, we are all highly trained to deal with danger."

Those eyes were boring into her as he spoke. She could feel herself responding to it all. Danger? You have no idea, Aaron Hotchner, you have no idea.

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**A little silly and fluffy, hopefully the 15 year old in me did not take over too much. Apologies the 15 year olds who are offended by that, but 15 is eons ago for me! What do we think?**


	2. Chapter 2

**This is the companion piece, to DANGEROUS. I decided to add this as a chapter to that story, but really it could almost be a stand alone. I haven't written too much for CM, so be kind, but I would love to hear from some of you brilliant writers! (shameless sucking up there, did it work?)**

**DISCLAIMER: If I owned them, the bad girl things I would do to poor Hotch!!**

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**DISTURBING**

Control was Aaron Hotchner's friend. He had always been in control of himself. Even when he was younger and laughed more, he was always aware of maintaining it. This job required him to control some of the most brilliant minds in the country. It required him to control some of the most horrific crime scenes. If he allowed himself to relax at all, he was sure he would melt. His control was like bones in the body, without them we would be formless puddles. He often felt like his emotions could be like that.

Certainly the last years had made that control a razor's edge he walked constantly. One tiny push or pull and he would fall into what he feared would be a bottomless abyss of self-loathing and doubt. Now more than ever, he needed to be in control for his own sanity, but mostly for his son's sake. That little boy's world had been ripped apart and trampled. He needed his father, no, his daddy to be there for him.

So, Aaron maintained. It was slow and careful at first. He took it carefully, feeling his way along that razor's edge for Jack's sake. Aaron was beginning to think he was getting his balance under him. But then, it would be thrown off, disturbed by one person.

As he sat in the jet whisking them back home, he thought about that disturbing person. She sat in the back, face turned as if looking out at the night sky. He knew better. Something was whirling in that brilliant mind.

Her mind, her intellect. That's what disturbed him about her. She was frighteningly smart, intuitive, and had a razor sharp wit. She could find the most bizarre moment in the hell that was their job and make them all smile, if not laugh. She would laugh out loud, and you needed to join her, her laugh. That was it

Her laugh, and that voice. Her voice disturbed his equilibrium. She had a slightly husky, smoky edge to her voice that wound its way from his ear drums up to his nerve endings. It skittered along there, raising the hairs on his neck in the most disturbing manner. It also raised other portions of his anatomy. He was like Pavlov's dog, responding to a sound cue. It was to the point where he would see her eyes twinkle and oh yes. Her eyes.

Those dark sparkling eyes disturbed his calm control. Whether they were twinkling when she was amused or warm and sweet comforting a victim's family, he was always lost in their dark depths. When the anguish of man's inhumanity to man became too much, those large eyes would seek out his, just as he would seek our hers. They would have entire conversations this way, he liked to think. Those eyes were truly windows to her soul, tucked under a fringe of dark hair. Oh, her hair.

That smell of her shampoo. He had no idea what she used, but just the smell could tighten his body Really, he was too old to react this way to scent of a woman's hair. This hadn't happened since he was 13 years old and Miss Dunleavy's shampoo had entranced him for most of the eighth grade. He was embarrassed to remember when Emily had grabbed his jacket to hold over her head when it rained. He spent that night inhaling her scent alone in his bed. His actions still made him squirm a bit. Because the rain had started to mold her tshirt to her body and oh.

Her body. Strong, soft, curvy without being too much. She was graceful and well-toned. His hands frequently itched just to run wild over those supple curves. She was so honest in her dealing that he was sure she would be the type of woman to respond openly to each caress. Her legs would wrap around…

Damn! This was the problem. He would try to be in control, careful and categorize all those parts of her. He was sure if he could only break her and his wild attraction to her into separate entities, he would no longer be disturbed. But those parts added to a delicious and disturbing whole. It was a package designed by God or the very Devil to disturb him and his careful control. If only he could let her know. If only he had the right and position in life to go up to her and pull that disturbing woman into his arms, he would get back his…Who was he kidding, this was the kind of woman who could disturb him forever, if only…

She was flushed again. What was disturbing her? He risked his control and equilibrium again to bring her some water. He mouthed some stupid platitude about dealing with the danger and cases. He wasn't even aware of what he really said. He was too busy watching her mouth curve and being disturbed by it.

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**Honestly, I just want to knock them both over the head and lock them into a room till they act on all that simmering chemistry!**

**Review??**


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